


and when I see your smile (replacing every thoughtless frown)

by brandnewovernight



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: (he is duh), (only a little though), Angst, Cuddling, Cute :), Fluff, M/M, Ringo thinks George is pretty, mentions of divorce, parents fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2020-09-26 20:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandnewovernight/pseuds/brandnewovernight
Summary: George goes to the beach to get away from his family. Along his walk he finds a pretty seashell (and an even prettier boy).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> People were requesting a series and, even though it was for a different story, I thought I'd make this into a 2 or three parter :)) enjoy!

It wasn't everyday that George found himself walking alone at night on the beautiful Ainsdale beach. However, that night had been specifically horrible.

George had been fed up with the constant bickering and fighting of his parents. He was tired of hearing them yap about saving money and bills and all sorts of things that didn't matter to George. All he wanted was for them to be happy, but he guessed that was too much to ask.

After not being able to drown them out, he decided to slip on a sweater and head down to the beach and take a walk.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and began his walk, his eyes stubbornly facing down with his hoodie pulled over his head. It was quite a windy night, especially near the ocean. He kicked a rock or two when he saw them, but he tried to clear is mind as he listened to the angry crash of the ocean tide.

George took a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air. His parents had taken him and his siblings to the beach when they were younger, but at this point he hadn't been in years. It was a breath of fresh air, literally, to be back near the ocean again.

As he walked along the sandy shore, his eyes were everywhere; on the shimmering stars in the sky, the full moon, and the sandy beach. As his eyes flew across the grains of sand, he spotted a rather large, beautiful looking seashell in the distance. He didn't let it out of his sight as he made his way over to it.

As he approached the shell, he bent down to pick it up and hit his head on something in the process! After falling backward and momentarily forgetting about the seashell, he rubbed his head and looked up. His hoodie fell off his head and he had a clear view of the thing, or rather _person _he hit.

The other boy was sitting down, George's desired seashell in hand, as he rubbed his forehead. The unknown boy had his hoodie on like George formerly did.

"Hey! That's my shell you've got," George accused, pointing a finger at the boy.

He made a face and looked George in the eye before his eyes went back to the shell, "I'm positive I spotted it first, mate." He gave George a pointed look.

The moon shone and George noticed the boy's blue eyes gleaming. He had a nose too big for his face and the plumpest lips he'd seen on a lad.

He wasn't bad looking.

"Why are you here tonight anyway?" The boy asked, standing up and dusting off the back of his joggers. George stood up as well and saw that he had a good few inches on the boy.

George narrowed his eyes and put a hand on his hip, "Don't think you're getting that shell by changing the subject."

The other boy grinned at that, showing off pretty pearly whites, "If you want it so bad then come get it!" And he was off.

George's eyebrows shot up to his forehead as he broke into a run, chasing the boy. Due to George being taller than him, he caught up to him pretty quickly, tackling the boy as they both fell to the ground with a huff.

The boy began to laugh heartily, "Say, what's your name, son?" He asked, his eyes pouring deep into George's.

"George...Harrison." He responded slowly.

"Well, George Harrison, as much as..._admire _our closeness, I'd like to get to know you first." Ringo said, referring to the way George was straddling his waist.

George's cheeks turned beet red as he struggled to get up and off the other man. He stood up with an embarrassed smile, his hair sticking up in different places as the other boy smiled. He still had the seashell in his hand, but George's mind was elsewhere.

(Like on the intriguing boy in front of him.)

"I'm Richard Starkey, but a lot of people just call me Ringo." He held out his hand for George to shake it, and he did.

The younger boy's eyebrows furrowed, "Ringo? That's quite a strange name." Ringo turned and began walking. George followed the boy.

He waved his right hand in the air, the one not occupied by the seashell, and stated, "'Cause of my rings." He smiled a silly smile with wide eyes.

George wasn't sure why he was walking on a beach with a stranger - that could very well murder him and cut his body into pieces - at night. He felt as if something was pulling him toward the boy.

"So you never answered me earlier, what brings you to the beach in the middle of the night?" Ringo questioned, looking over at George while the younger stared down to the ground.

He shrugged his thin shoulders, "I dunno. Just wanted to get away from me house I guess. What about you?"

"It all started because of a damn Elvis record, believe it or not." George looked at Ringo with wide eyes as the older boy chuckled, "I bought one with me new paycheck from me job and went home and played it. As soon as me mum got home, she went berserk! All, 'turn that off! I won't have that in me house!' and all that." Ringo threw his arms in the air, making his voice high pitched to sound like his mum.

George let out a gasp, "I love Elvis! How can your mum not like the king?"

"Right! Anyway, then me parents started fighting because me da' had a headache and me mum was yellin', right? It was a bloody mess." He sighed, rubbing his temples as if he could hear them yelling.

"Parents, right?" George responded, cracking a small smile looking up at the moon, wishing it had the answers.

Ringo looked over at George, admiring the way the moonlight highlighted the boys high cheekbones. "Yours too, huh?" He muttered as he bumped their shoulders in a friendly way. George nodded in response, but remained silent.

They walked along like that for a bit, neither boy talked. They listened to the sound of the waves and looked at the stars in the sky. Ringo felt his eyes drifting over to the younger boy over and over again. He felt as if he couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"Is there a reason you keep looking over at me?" George muttered, his cheeks turning pink as he put his gaze on the sugary sand below him.

Ringo smiles and simply said, "Well you're very pretty, aren't you?"

George felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets. _He's _pretty? No way.

He barely knew the guy.

The younger boy tucked a piece of hair, which was getting quite long, behind his ear. "Oh. Thanks." He replied, rather awkwardly.

Ringo shrugged in response, feeling a sense of pride rush through his veins at George blushing from his words. "You don't have to thank me for telling the truth."

The two boys continued to walk on the beach that night. They didn't have to talk, the comfortable silence between them was enough.

(And if their hands brushed together a few times then, well, no one had to know.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they meet again (oooooh)

George was exasperated.

He was sitting in a booth at his favorite cafe waiting for Paul, his mate, to arrive. Ever since bumping into _Ringo, _he'd been all messed up. George felt as if his life got turned around.

He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to the soft brown of Ringo's hair, how his hands felt brushing against his own. And _God, _his eyes. Pretty blue eyes that shone brighter than every shimmering star in the sky that night.

He anxiously awaited Paul's arrival. Having drank 2 cups of black tea already, his leg was bouncing from the caffeine (and the nervousness). George was staring hard down at his hands when he heard the bell ring.

His head snapped up so hard, he nearly got whiplash. Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, wringing his hands as be waited for Paul to notice him.

(Though it didn't take long. Jeez, how hard is it to notice a 5 foot 10 lad with noticeable anxiety.)

"Er George, mate, you alright?" Paul questioned, a slight laugh emitting from him as he slid into the booth seat.

George took a very deep breath and exhaled slowly as he clenches his eyes shut. He paused, looked at Paul in the eyeballs, and said, simply, "No."

Paul nodded, because it was visibly clear the lad wasn't doing okay. "Alright. Before we get into this, let me get some tea, yeah?"

The dark haired lad got his tea, and made his way back to his seat as George began to tell him everything.

Paul had been George's best friend for a couple of years. George knew his mate wouldn't judge him for the...feelings he had, because Paul had secrets of his own.

And God, Paul was a great listener. George felt like he was droning on and on, but the dark haired boy across from him just kept nodding, listening to every word George was saying and he couldn't ask for a better friend.

Finally, when George was finished gushing, Paul nodded with a sort of finality and began to speak his piece, "I mean...I don't really know what to say, mate, you don't even know his last name. Unless the stars align for you, I doubt you'll find the exact Richard here in Liverpool again." 

Minutes later after a silence stood between the boys, the universe decided to cradle George Harrison in it's arms and give him what he wanted.

The bell at the front door rang, signalling another customer. George, who had previously had his face in his hands, glanced up at the new arrival in the café.

There he was - fucking Ringo sitting at the bar chatting with the barista. George felt his eyes pop out of his sockets and his jaw drop.

"Holy fucking shit." Is all he mumbled while Paul looked around frantically, wondering what was wrong with his friend.

George couldn't take his eyes off of him. Ringo was clad in a navy button up and simple black jeans that hugged his waist and hips. He looked like everything George ever needed and wanted.

"...wait, is _that_ him?" Paul looked at what, or rather _who_, George had his eyes locked on.

The younger boy swallowed audibly and nodded slowly. All of a sudden, a panicked look took its place on George's face. "Oh god, Paul, what if he comes over here. I don't know what to say!" He whispered urgently.

The dark haired lad just shrugged his shoulders with a smirk as he took a sip of his tea. He was quite enjoying this crisis George was having. Paul had never seen the boy so infatuated before.

"Paul," George whined and wiped a hand over his face, "What if he doesn't even like...y'know, blokes?"

Paul gave him a deadpan expression with a roll of his eyes, "He called you pretty. Sounds pretty queer to me."

"Shh! He's coming over act natural." George straightened his back and leaned his chin against his his fist. Paul let out a snort at how completely unnatural George looked.

Ringo waltzed over to where George was sat, eyeing the pretty brunette bloke across from him that he hoped was just a mate of his. Sure, Ringo thought he was cute.

But he thought George was cuter.

"Ringo! Hi!!" George said, slightly over-enthusiastically.

The older man gave him a wide grin and a wave of his hand. Paul smirked at the interaction and sat back against his chair. "Ah, this is the famous Ringo I've heard so much about."

George turned about 10 shades of red at that comment and kicked Paul under the table, who let out a yelp.

"'Lo. And you might be?" He asked, and turned toward Paul, though his attention still lingered on George.

Paul thought he was cute! He looked like the type to treat George _right. _He was happy was George.

"I'm Paul, lovely to meet you."

"The pleasures all mine!" Ringo said with a smile and found his gaze back on George's eyes and shy smile.

There was a moment of awkward silence where nobody said anything. George squirmed in his seat and gave Paul a pointed look. Paul widened his eyes, "Oh! I actually have to go because...my cat needs to be fed."

Paul scrambled up and out of his chair. "Nice meeting you, Ringo. I'll see ya later Georgie!" He waved bye and quickly walked toward the door to the coffee shop. He sent George and wink over his shoulder and walked out.

Ringo gestured to the now-empty seat across from George, "May I sit?"

"Yes yes of course!" George hurriedly responded, feeling his anxiety rise.

He had only been on dates with birds who were nervous and shy. Now he felt like he was the bird in this situation.

Not that this was a date.

George and Ringo were just guys who were in a coffee shop who found each other attractive.

No big deal.

"How are you?" Ringo asked with kind eyes searching George's. He genuinely sounded like he cared how George had been feeling lately.

"I'm good. How about yourself?" George responded, sipping his tea that was almost gone.

Ringo nodded, "I've been good. Me parents have been keeping the yelling to a minimum so that helps," he chuckles and picks at a hangnail, "Have your parents still been driving you nuts?"

George smiled at Ringo's laugh. It was music to his ears. Ringo could cheer him up any hour of the day, any day of the week.

The younger boy cleared his throat, "Like mad. God, I reckon they should just divorce already." He rolled his eyes just thinking about them.

Ringo's smile faltered and a frown made its way on his face, "Oh." Is all he said, then he looked down, deep in thought.

After a few beats, he said, "I'm sorry, George. But if you ever need to get away or anything you can give me a ring? Here, I'll give you my telephone number."

George stared wide eyed as Ringo pulled a pen out of his pocket. He grabbed a loose napkin lying on the table and scribbled on it.

The younger boy felt his eyes blur slightly.

Paul had been there for him throughout everything, and George was so grateful for that. Paul really was the example of an amazing friend. But this...this somehow felt different to George.

It made his heart skip a beat. It made his breathing speed up.

It felt different...it felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this kinda sucks ): I promise the next chapter will be better! In that one stuff starts to happen ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some angst...I'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! School has been so fucking stressful as well as college apps and work. This isn't edited!! So I'm also sorry about that. But I hope you all enjoy nonetheless :)

_"Your mom and I are getting a divorce."_

The words rang out in George's head. It seemed like a bomb had just gone off because of the ringing in his ears.

_"getting a divorce"_  
_a divorce_  
_divorce._

The thought never crossed his mind. George figured his parents would get over their constant yelling and arguing - he didn't think they would get _divorced _because of it.

God, there's that word again.

His dad was sat in front of him, a hand on his knee looking straight into his soul. His mom to his left with sorrow swimming in her brown eyes . George's brain wasn't fast enough and he had no idea what to think except he had to _get out. _

He needed to get away from his parents and this house. He felt the walls of the kitchen closing in on him and his breathing quickened.

George nodded slightly at his dad and turned to his mother, "Okay. I'm...gonna go to my room now." He nodded again to reassure himself.

The boy walked, as if in a trance, upstairs to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared off into space. The pace of his breathing quickened as his hands fell to the duvet on his bed, clutching the fabric there with a death grip.

He needed something to ground him. After minutes of relaying it in his mind he decided.

George needed to call Ringo.

He remained on his bed a little bit longer. Finally, his breathing slowed down a little bit and he felt calmer. His heart was still beating out of his chest when he got up from his bed.

Sneakily, George padded down the stairs and into the kitchen without making a sound. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison sat in the TV room watching late night television while their son made his way to the telephone.

He dialed the numbers that Ringo gave him at their previous visit. Immediately after dialing, he felt nervous. What if Ringo wouldn't want to see him? He didn't want to be annoying. They weren't that close anyway he might think it weird that George is spilling his problems too him.

Before George could hang up and forget it, a soft, sleep filled voice answers the phone.

"'Lo?" Ringo wipes a hand over his face, wondering bitterly who'd be calling at this hour when he was to work early in the morning.

"Oh. Hey Ringo." George rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. His goal wasn't to wake Ringo up and now he felt bad - he felt stupid for calling him in the first place.

The older man grinned as he heard the voice on the other line, knowing exactly who it was. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and replied, "Hello George. Is there any reason you're calling me at 10 at night or just for a chat?" Ringo joked and chuckled to himself.

George gulped and wrapped his finger anxiously around the phone cord, "I'm sorry mate, just- nevermind I'll talk to you later or something-"

"No!" Ringo said quickly.

The two boys were silent for a few seconds before Ringo recovered, "I mean what's on your mind? You had to have called for a reason, yeah?" Ringo implored, hoping that George was okay. He didn't sound like his regular self, not that Ringo had known him for a long time, but he couldn't help but worry.

"It's me parents. They-" George squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to say the dreaded word, "they're getting divorced." He clutched the telephone with both hands, hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Ringo was silent for a while. If he was asleep before, he was definitely awake now. He stared at his kitchen floor not knowing really what to say except how sorry he was. You never really heard of people getting divorced these days, people tended to just stick with each other.

"Oh Geo," Ringo started, "I'm so sorry."

George shook his head though Ringo couldn't see him. He already felt a lump rising in his throat, "Nah don't- don't worry about it. I just wanted to get out of the house but-"

Ringo interrupted him for the second time that night, "Come over."

George stopped in his tracks, he felt the previous thoughts in his mind slam on their metaphorical breaks and every word he ever learned escaped his vocabulary.

All he could say was, "Me?" As he pointed to himself (though, again, Ringo could not see him).

Ringo laughed in response to that, "Unless the Queen is listenin' in, I don't think there's anyone else in this call."

The younger boy felt his cheeks grow hot as he chuckled lightly at himself. "Are you sure? I know I woke you up and I'm sorry about that. I don't want to be a burden."

"You won't be, George. My parents are out of town, thank God, and you sound like you could use a friend right now. Also, you must've called me for a reason." Ringo stated, hoping George would say yes.

"You're right," George took a deep breath and exhaled it, "now whereabouts do you live?"

After 15 minutes of George struggling to drive in the rain at night while also fighting back tears, he finally made it to Ringo's house. The younger boy walked up to the door and went to knock on it. Before he could knock a third time, Ringo was pulling the door open.

His heart broke as soon as he saw the younger boy. Though George had some inches on Ringo, he looked so small standing outside his front door. The low light made his skin glow golden as the rain poured down into George's already soaked jacket. His hair was matted down and his eyes were puffy and red.

Ringo pulled him through the door, closed it, and pulled George into his arms as the younger boy cried. He whispered soothing words into the boy's ear as he led him to the bathroom.

"Stay right here. I'll get you some clothes to change into and put the kettle on as well." George sniffled and nodded, his heart full of gratitude for Ringo.

He watched as the older man walked away and then flipped the toilet seat down. George sat on top of it and wrapped his arms around himself as best as he could, trying to stay warm.

Ringo came back in with a sweatshirt, some sweatpants, and a towel in hand. "Here you go," Ringo handed him the items as George muttered a "thanks", "And you can just put the towel in the basket when you're done." Ringo gave him a warm smile and closed the bathroom door as he walked away again.

George quickly dried off his body and changed. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw that he was pretty much drowning in the sweatshirt Ringo gave him...which didn't make much sense to George as he was bigger than Ringo. He shrugged to himself, ran a hand through his damp hair, and left the bathroom.

He walked out to see Ringo in the kitchen that connected to the living room. Ringo had his back to him, his body facing toward the stove where the kettle was almost to a boil.

George awkwardly stood in the threshold, fiddling with the long sleeves of Ringo's sweatshirt he was wearing. He began to say, "Thank you for-" when Ringo jumped about 10 feet in the air, almost spilling the kettle.

The younger boy giggled as Ringo turned around slowly with a hand over his heart, "Christ you startled me." But he stopped in his tracks and momentarily forgot what he was doing.

George looked _gorgeous. _He looked pretty much swaddled in Ringo's own sweatshirt that was even too big for him. His feathered hair was a mess, sticking up in different directions. His lips were swollen from him biting them, his cheeks were rosy pink. His eyes were red, and that fact broke Ringo's heart. But he couldn't think of a time where he'd been so attracted to another human. He got the urge to hold him in his arms and protect him from all the bad in the world.

He realized he'd been staring too long when George said, "What? Do I look stupid?" He looked down at his body self-consciously and began to pull on the hem of the sweatshirt.

The kettle went off right as Ringo's response died on his tongue. He prepared two mugs of tea and invited George to sit down on the couch with him.

The couch, George thought, was lumpy but very comfortable. Ringo's flat had a very home-y feel to it. He hated to admit it, but it felt more like home than his house has felt recently.

Here there was no yelling and throwing things and fighting over stupid stuff. It was just him and Ringo and the record player spinning an Elvis record that Ringo could _actually _listen to now that his parents weren't here.

The two boys sat a few feet apart on the old couch, not touching each other. A lamp in the corner of the room and a small light in the kitchen were the only things that lit up the room, so it was quite dark.

George tapped his toe to the beat of the Elvis song playing as he took a sip of his tea. He was the first one to break the silence, "You have a very nice home." He nodded, looking at some of the picture frames on the wall of Ringo's family.

Ringo placed his mug on the coffee table, "Thank you, I'm sure my mum would appreciate that. I'm actually getting my own flat in a couple of weeks now." Ringo casually brought up.

George thought that was so cool. He knew Ringo was older than him, but he wished he could have his own apartment. He'd do anything for that.

"That's so cool," George responded, turning so his body faced Ringo, "Do you know where at yet?"

Ringo nodded his head with a smile, "Yeah, me mate is moving to London with his family and said I could have his flat."  
  
Before George could respond, Ringo stood up and walked to the tv and switched it on. When he got back to his spot on the couch, he sat close to George, so that they're thighs were touching.

The younger boy immediately froze up at the feeling of Ringo's thigh against his. Ringo wrapped his arm around him and George felt himself relax. There was no reason for him to be nervous.

He maneuvered his body so that his head was resting on the older boys chest. Ringo wrapped his other arm around him and rubbed his back.

The two boys watched the late night talk show that was on, though neither boy was paying attention. George's mind was on the feeling of Ringo's big hands on his back and his scent wrapped around him like a warm hug, while Ringo's mind was on George's soft hair ticking his neck and how warm his body is against his.

Warm. George should never have to be cold outside in the rain. He should always be warm and here in Ringo's arms.

"I," Ringo started, not really sure how to approach this topic to George, "I don't know if you want to talk about it, but I'm here to listen if you need to."

George looked up at him with his big brown doe eyes and seemed so small, like he did when he first knocked on Ringo's door.  
  
"Its sad. I mean, they've been together my whole life, and longer...it's weird to think about them not being together." George said. He felt his eyes begin to water as he buried his face into Ringo's chest and grasped his white T-shirt in both palms of his hands.

Ringo rubbed George's back as he cried into his shirt - soaking it with tears so that it stuck to his chest. It was sightly uncomfortable, but he didn't mind one bit as long as George was comfortable.  
  
His crying slowed down after a couple minutes. Ringo muttered little whispers in his ear and pressed chaste kisses on his head and cheeks. He wished he could wipe all of George's hurt away. He hasn't even known him for that long, but he knew he never wanted to see him cry again.

"C'mere," he whispered in George's ear as he pulled him into his lap slowly. George complied and made himself comfortable in Ringo's lap.

The younger boy took one of Ringo's hands in his own. He looked at it and held it. He kissed each fingertip and studied each ring. He then dropped his and Ringo's hands in his lap and intertwined them, then looked up at Ringo.

"Kiss me."

"Are you sure?" Ringo asked with careful eyes.

"Yes." George said breathlessly and leaned it.

And Ringo kissed him. Their lips moved together as the older boy let his hands wander down to clutch at George's thin hips through _his sweatshirt. _He breathed in and was enveloped in in both his and George's scent swirling together.

George was kissing him like he had never done before. His hands were desperately carding through Ringo's long locks as he tugged on them and slipped his tongue into Ringo's mouth.

Ringo thought the kiss was moving a little fast, but he didn't mind. He could do fast.

But suddenly his face felt...wet?

As George tugged on his hair once more, Ringo pulled away from the younger boy. His eyes glanced over George's face and saw that he was crying again.

"Geo-"

"What am I doing?" George asked himself as he slouched in Ringo's lap, "I- Listen I like you, I do, but I don't think I should be here right now."

Ringo had whiplash. One second George was on his lap, and the next he was out the door before Ringo could even say anything in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for breaking your hearts :( but it's not over yet! I think I'll write one more chapter and I'll be done. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! And I take requests for one shots on my tumblr so if you'd like to request some mclennon or starrison you can go to @brandnewovernight on Tumblr and send me an ask :) peace and love always xx  
\- Sara


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! School was insane but i I finally had a chance over the holidays to finish this :) I hope you all enjoy!

As soon as George stepped outside and got hit with the rough winds and piercing rain drops that come with England weather, he regretted it. He himself wasn't even sure why he freaked out over kissing Ringo. He knew he liked Ringo and was very sure that he was attracted to the man. But everything happened all at once and it overwhelmed him. 

Still, George continued to walk. He moved at a slow pace, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. The smell of the rain on newly paved street filled his nose and made the cogs in his mind slow down. He felt his heartbeat decrease in speed and he didn't feel like there was a hand gripping his throat anymore.

George inhaled the cool night air and tilted his head up to look at the stars. He stopped under a streetlight, barely a block away from what he remembered to be Ringo's house.

All of a sudden, a voice called his name. There was no doubt on who it was, there could only be one person in the area that would be wondering where he is. His name was yelled a second time and he turned to the direction it was coming from.

George saw Ringo, in his pajamas and tennis shoes, running down the middle of the street waving his hand. The younger boy laughed incredulously and looked at the stars in disbelief - as if they're the ones who decided George's fate.

Ringo ran to George and stopped in front of him to put his hands on his knees. George watched as older boy took deep breaths, much like he did earlier. Ringo's long hair was soaked and hung around his face - he looked beautiful, like something out of George's dreams.

"I know you said you shouldn't be here," Ringo took a deep breath and a step closer, "I'm sorry but I don't think you're right."

George raised an eyebrow and looked at Ringo like he grew 2 heads. The rain continued to pour down around him and the sweatshirt, Ringo's sweatshirt, George was wearing clung to his skin.

"What do you mean?" George responded. He placed a hand on his hip and cocked his head to the side. The sound of the rain hitting the ground around them was so loud that the men had to yell to hear each other.

"George, I think you are supposed to be here. With me. I don't want you to run away because you think I'm not serious about this because I am. I really fancy you, George Harrison, and I think that-"

George grabbed Ringo's collar and slammed their lips together; teeth clashed and hands flew. George's icy lips slid against Ringo's warmer ones. Their mouths moved together in sync as George wrapped his arms around the older boy's neck and pulled him in so close that they were chest to chest.

Ringo bit and nibbled at George's bottom lip . The younger boy parted his lips and they're tongues met and explored the other's mouth. The older boy's hands grabbed at George's hips, then lowered to the backs of his thighs. The next thing George knew, he was in Ringo's arms with his legs wrapped around the older boy's waist.

George giggled a bit at the fact that both of them were soaking wet and they could barely see each other from the glow of a lamp light nearby. He pushed the wet hair out of Ringo's face and pulled away from his lips.

"God, you're beautiful," Ringo marveled. He held George's face in his big hands and wiped the raindrops off of George's face with his thumbs. "Your cheekbones and jawline were sculpted by gods."

The younger boy snorted and hit Ringo in the chest with his hand. "You're being such a sap."

"That's my job, yeah?" Ringo responded as he let George down on the ground, "Did you wanna come back to mine?"

George looked up at Ringo through his eyelashes and smiled shyly, "If that's okay with you." He replied and leaned into Ringo as the older boy wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

"It's always okay with me." Ringo stated and led the way back to his home. The rain had slowed down some at this point, but was still consistent.

The boys had only been walking for all of 2 minutes when Ringo stopped in his tracks with an, "Oh!"

George watched as Ringo dug around in his pocket for something - what it was, George couldn't have known. Whatever it was, Ringo found it and grabbed it in his hand and now held his closed fist in front of George.

"I brought this. I meant to give it to you at the coffee shop but I guess I was a little, ahem, distracted." Ringo grabbed George's hand, opened his palm, and dropped the seashell in the younger boys hand.

George gasped in surprise. He definitely was not expecting that. He let out a surprised giggle at the thought of Ringo actually caring enough to give him the seashell back.

“Wow...I had totally forgotten about this.” George said honestly, inspecting the seashell on all it’s different sides and angles.

Ringo gasped, acting offended, “How could you? It’s how we met! Oh say it isn’t so.” He pretended to collapse in George’s arms with his hand over his forehead.

George began to laugh at Ringo’s antics, “C’mon you goof,” he pushed the older boy up and off him as they continued to walk down the road to Ringo’s house.

Once they got there, Ringo used his key to unlock the front door as the two boys headed to the bathroom to take off their soaked clothes.

Ringo gave George more of his clothes to wear for the second time tonight. He gave him a t-shirt and some boxers to wear to sleep. Much like the sweatshirt George formerly wore, he looked as if he was drowning in the T-shirt that Ringo let him borrow.

When George slipped into Ringo’s bedroom, the older man was sat on the edge of his bed as he nervously played with a loose thread on his duvet. At the sound of George entering, he looked up and sighed with a fond smile at the sight of George wearing his clothes.

This, he thought. His heart ran rampant with the different feelings he felt all at once for George. The second time they met, it hit Ringo like a wave crashing into a shore - it hit him that he likes George a lot. Like, more than he’s ever liked anyone. (Even Elvis!)

He quickly organized his thoughts and stood up from the bed while George awkwardly hung by the door. He cleared his throat and said, “I made up the bed for you. I can go ahead and sleep on the floor that way you’ll be more comfortable-“

“Nonsense,” George murmured in response, “We can sleep together.” The younger boy flushed slightly at how the sentence sounded, but both boys knew none of that would be happening so soon.

Ringo nodded with a smile and slid into the small, twin sized bed. George slid in after him and turned off the lamp light next to the bed.

It was awkward at first. Both boys weren’t sure how to touch or be touched. But, they ended up laying with Ringo on his back and George with his head on his chest and arms wrapped around his middle.

When they settled into that spot, both breathed a sigh of relief. George nuzzled his head against Ringo’s warm chest and listened to the slowing sound of his heartbeat right into his ear. His hair was still slightly wet and was getting Ringo’s shirt wet, but he’d be damned if he moved from the spot he’s in.

“Hey Ringo?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are we, like, proper boyfriends or...” George trailed off and glanced up at his blue eyes.

Ringo kissed him on his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, “If you want us to be then yes.”

George smiled and placed a kiss on Ringo’s chest as the older boy slipped a hand up George’s (his) shirt to rub his back.

“I want us to be.” George said as he closed his eyes and laid his head down.

“I want us to be, too.”

And while the boys slept, the seashell lay on Ringo’s bed side table, glistening in the light of the moon shining through the window.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, I do have a tumblr and I love getting writing requests. So if you have any headcanons you’d like to see written out, I’m your girl! Just hit up my ask box my tumblr is @brandnewovernight <3


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